


it haunts you, dear (but you won't want to let it go)

by anxielin



Series: Send a Prayer to the Ones Up Above [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sort of), Angst, Cage Trauma, Canon Compliant, Dark, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam, M/M, Manipulative Lucifer (Supernatural), Non-Consensual Touching, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Cage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Winchester-centric, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 14:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxielin/pseuds/anxielin
Summary: "'I’ve been waiting for a chance to get some… alone time,' Lucifer said softly.Sam’s fingers automatically flew to the scar tissue on his palm, digging into his flesh even though he knew it wouldn’t help anything. This wasn’t a hallucination. This was real. Pain wouldn’t make him go away."





	it haunts you, dear (but you won't want to let it go)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to write something else other than hurt!sam fics for a while now, but it seems that this is all I am capable of for now. I figured if this is all I'm going to be posting for a while, might as well make a vague series out of it. Works are loosely connected, and reading the previous story is not necessary.  
> Title from "The Hands That Thieve" by Streetlight Manifesto.
> 
> *WARNING: contains references to past rape/non con, threats of rape, and non-consensual touching*  
> Please check the tags and read with caution!

Lucifer is in the bunker with them.  
Sam can’t take it anymore.  
He wonders how he missed that it wasn’t Cas in there for so long. Now that he knows, it’s glaringly obvious. Nothing about this is Castiel. His eyes are different, full of fire and ice and hatred, and his voice is different, and even the way he holds himself is so _Lucifer_ that Sam can’t stand to look at him. Every inch of Cas screams the Devil and it takes all of Sam’s willpower not to smash his fist into his face, or scream at God for dragging him there, or run far far away and never look back. He wants to hide, to leave, to do anything except stand in the same room as Lucifer and act like everything is fine. He spent over a century locked in the Cage with that _monster_ , enduring torture after torture, and he still wakes up from nightmares with Lucifer’s voice ringing in his ears, even after years of distance between them. But now he was right there, the stuff of nightmares, of darkness, of agony. In the same room as Sam. Once again. He was out.  
When he was in the Cage, Sam took solace in the fact that all his suffering meant the world was safe. He had locked Lucifer back up in the box and yes, he got dragged down with him, but at times, he convinced himself it was worth it. He suffered to keep the world alive. And now Lucifer was back out of the Cage and every bit of pain meant nothing now. His sacrifice meant nothing. Years upon years of agony meant _nothing_. And no one else seemed to care.  
Sam was hiding. He couldn’t be in the same proximity as his torturer without his chest tightening and his throat closing up. The Devil always seemed to suck all the air out of the room. His brain was flashing through too many memories of the Cage to simply stand next to him and be civil, like Lucifer hadn’t torn him apart more times than he could count, like he hadn’t hurt him or raped him or twisted his mind until he couldn’t tell reality from illusion. It was too much. He was nearing the end of his rope and he just needed to get away, so he left and retreated to an empty office down the hall. Even that much distance wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned. He couldn’t _breathe_. He wanted to shout at everyone that this was killing him, that _Lucifer_ was killing him, that it was too much and he couldn’t take it. But there wasn’t enough air in his lungs to shout. _He couldn’t breathe._ He sunk to the floor, clutching at his lungs. It felt a little like he was dying. Everything was numbed and too far away and maybe he really was dead. Maybe it would be better that way. Maybe then it could all be over.  
He didn’t realize just how out of it he was until he jolted back into reality at the sound of someone’s voice. He heard “Sammy” and his breath caught in his throat because that wasn’t Dean. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood to bring the world back into focus. As soon as he did, he regretted it, because there Lucifer was, looming over him. In Cas’s body. In his suit and trench coat. In his face. Focus on the eyes, he told himself. Lucifer shone through them and it made it easier to accept that this wasn’t his friend.  
“Get away from me,” he said. His voice was weak. It sounded more like a plea than an order.  
Castiel’s face twisted into a mask of mock hurt. “Aw, is that any way to talk to your old bunk buddy?” Lucifer took a step closer to him and Sam shot to his feet, trying to shrink into the wall. His brain was screaming at him to run but his legs were frozen, and all he could do was stare in horror as Lucifer took another step. Their faces were close enough for Sam to smell him, and his nose burned at the scent of sulfur and blood and death. He smelled like the Cage. Sam could recognize that smell anywhere. It filled his nightmares and made his stomach twist and now it was right in front of him. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to get some… alone time,” Lucifer said softly. Sam’s fingers automatically flew to the scar tissue on his palm, digging into his flesh even though he knew it wouldn’t help anything. This wasn’t a hallucination. This was real. Pain wouldn’t make him go away.  
“I _said,_ ” Sam growled, “Get the hell away from me.” His voice was stronger this time. This wasn’t the Cage. He wasn’t trapped here. He tried to shove past Lucifer to leave the room but the angel was stronger than him. He didn’t budge, only smirked at Sam’s attempt to get past him. Lucifer slammed his hands into the wall on either side of Sam’s head and he violently flinched, but he refused to break eye contact. Yes, he was trembling right now. He was fucking terrified. But God had made sure Lucifer couldn’t hurt him. That thought kept him from breaking eye contact.  
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Sammy boy,” Lucifer hissed, eyes gleaming, and Sam’s defiance wavered. How did he know what Sam had been thinking? And what the hell was that supposed to mean? Something about the way he said it made him shiver and suddenly he was doubting even _God’s_ power. Lucifer pressed his body against Sam’s and suddenly they were back in the Cage again. His back was pressed against the cold, solid bars and the flames outside were licking at his skin and he was completely exposed in front of Lucifer, stripped down to nothing. Cas’s neck craned to the side and he leaned forward, trapping Sam completely against the wall. Cas’s stubble grazed Sam’s cheek as his lips stopped an inch away from Sam’s ear. His entire body was trembling and his eyes were burning and he was nothing, _nothing_ against Lucifer, how could he ever think otherwise?  
“You know,” Lucifer murmured, and like this, his voice was enough to make every muscle in Sam’s body clench in utter terror, “Castiel is _begging_ me to stop right now.” Sam could feel Lucifer’s tongue brush up against the edge of his ear and he cringed away, squeezing his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was happening. Not again. “Too bad he doesn’t know you’re already my little _bitch_.” His breath was cold against Sam’s ear as he hissed out the words and Sam’s stomach was clenching so hard that it hurt, and if he had eaten anything that day he would have thrown up by now.  
“Maybe I should show him,” Lucifer continued, “Maybe I should take you right now, against this wall, with Cas in the backseat.” The Devil licked his lips and Sam’s heart stuttered because no, he was over, he was free, this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his flesh and breaking the skin and trying so damn hard to cling to the remaining shreds of his composure that Lucifer hadn’t already torn away with so few words. Sam was weak, he couldn’t fight the Devil, and he couldn’t deny him, and all that left him with was to stand here and take it and hope he’d be able to look Cas in the eyes again once it was all over. (He knew he won’t be able to, he couldn’t even bear to think of Cas witnessing this, getting a front-row seat to how fucking pitiful he was. It felt like his entire world was crashing down around him. He wanted to laugh in that moment, in the realization that this would be enough to break him, to accomplish what endless torture had failed at. The universe ends with not a bang, nor a whimper, but with sweet, honeyed words and possessive touches and him silently begging to _just die already_.)  
“C’mon, Sammy,” Lucifer purred, and it was in Cas’s voice but that exact inflection, the way his breath passed his lips and his tongue curled around the words, it was all Lucifer. It was loud and soft and nothing and everything and all of Hell was contained in those few words, a punch to the gut that knocked his breath away and forced him to stare up at Lucifer, to see all the little wrinkles and curves that warped Cas’s face into such a familiar expression. It was agony to look at. Sam’s eyes fell shut, heavy with a weight he couldn’t fight. Please, he thought, please just let this stop. Please, God, just kill me, don’t just leave me here, why are you letting this happen to me, make it stop Dean please I’m scared-  
“Sammy!”  
Lucifer’s head pulled away from his ear at the sound of Dean’s voice coming from somewhere down the hall. Sam slowly cracked his eyes open, staring up at the fallen angel in front of him (when did he get above him?).  
“Sam!” Dean called again, closer this time, and Lucifer took a step away from him, removing his hands from the wall and rolling his shoulders in a way that made Sam think of a cat, languid and fulfilled, licking scarlet off his lips (when did the blood get there what did he _do_?) He twisted Castiel’s lips into a smirk before raising a hand into the air. Sam flinched back, expecting a slap or a punch or anything besides a loud snap that was followed by Lucifer vanishing, leaving Sam alone in the office.  
“I’m in here!” Sam finally shouted back. His legs finally gave out and he sank down the wall until he hit the floor. Adrenaline was still running through his veins. He took a deep breath and tried to slow down his racing heart, but to no avail. He still couldn’t believe that had just happened. Lucifer hadn’t made any move to hurt him, but now that his head was clearer, Sam realized that Lucifer was too smart for that. It might not have even been Lucifer in front of him- it could have been an illusion, or some incredibly vivid hallucination. There was no way he’d attack- or do worse to- Sam in this situation, especially with God so close. He had just threatened him, reminded him who was boss. Wound him up for his own entertainment. And it had worked. Only a few words were enough to turn Sam into a shaking mess.  
He was weak like that.  
“Sammy?” Sam glanced up at the sound of the door creaking open and watched his brother poke his head through. Dean’s eyes settled on him and he knew he probably looked like a mess, curled up on the floor, breaths coming in short gasps. Lucifer had always been good at tearing him apart. “Hey, man, you okay?”  
Sam nodded and tried to flash Dean a smile, but his mouth didn’t twist quite right and it ended up in more of a grimace. “I just, uh, I needed a minute.”  
Dean sighed and pushed the door the rest of the way open so he could enter the room. The sound of his steps rang in the quiet and Sam wanted to tell him to turn around and go back to whatever he had been doing before, but at the same time he didn’t. He really, really didn’t. So he stayed silent as Dean made his way across the room and dropped into a squat next to Sam with a grunt.  
“Look, Sammy,” Dean started, and paused. “Are you doing alright, with, you know, all of this?”  
“I, uh-” Sam swallowed back a sob building in the back of his throat. “No. I’m not. I don’t think I’ve ever been. Not since way before Lucifer was even in the picture,” was what he wanted to say. He almost did, too. The words were right there, in reach, but then he thought about how Dean’s face would fall, how he would blame himself, how no amount of Sam’s reassurances that it was his own fault, that he was just built broken, would stop Dean from internalizing the guilt and letting it fester. Telling him wouldn’t get rid of any pain; it would just transfer it from Sam to his brother.  
So he took a breath and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Neither of them believed his lie, but that wasn’t the point.  
Dean sighed. For a moment, Sam thought he would call him out, but instead, all he said was, “Okay. But if you ever aren’t…” he trailed off uncomfortably.  
“I know.” This was the one lie that Sam knew Dean would never call him out on. Not after everything. Sam could pretend all he wanted that this was about sparing Dean, but deep down, it was also about himself. He would rather never talk than spill his guts and have it thrown right back at him. Dean knew his weak points. (Monster. Vampire. Freak.) It would take less than a word for him to break Sam. Far less than Lucifer would ever need.  
Finally, Dean cleared his throat, breaking through the silence. Sam heard more than saw Dean stand back up, and watched his shoes walk into his focus. “I don’t know about you,” Dean said. “But I could go for some lunch right about now.” Sam snorted, and just like that, everything slid back into place like nothing had ever happened. That was the way it worked. One day it would all catch up to him, and he knew he’d have to face all this. But for now, he was content with following Dean to the kitchen and pretending like everything was all right. Maybe, if he faked being fine long enough, he’d fool himself as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought in the comments!  
> Also, if anyone has any specific types or situations of hurt!sam they would like to see, please let me know in the comments, and I'll do my best to make it happen! I'd really appreciate any prompts or requests!


End file.
